


Harder Than The ColdStone

by Ritzy_bird



Series: JeanMarco Month 2017 [5]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Innuendo, M/M, Puns & Word Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ritzy_bird/pseuds/Ritzy_bird
Summary: Jean just wanted a simple part-time job so he could be more independent. He didn't think it would interfere with his love life.[JeanMarco Month 2017 - Prompt: Choices/Instinct]





	Harder Than The ColdStone

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably going to be the only remotely sexual thing I write for this little event, unlike last year. Try not to read too into this one despite any references I drop, lmao.

Who wants to eat ice cream when it's cold out? No one. Jean didn't care though, he got paid whether people walked through the door or not. On the plus side, working at Cold Stone was killing his wrists, and if he could be on break pretty much all day long there was no reason to complain.

Everyone, including himself, thought working at an ice cream place would be great! But a few months into having tubs and tubs of free leftover ice cream got really old, really fast. All his employee perks got him now were brownie slices that honestly weren't that great when they weren't pulverized in some ice cream.

All things which brought Jean to confusion as he'd begrudgingly prepared his customer-service attitude when he heard the door to the shop open, only to have the pleasant surprise of Marco walking in.

He relaxed, and no longer worrying if his permanent resting bitch face was apparent. "Hey! Whaaat are you doing here?" Jean asked, trying to remember if there were some plans he and Marco had made or something. 

Marco shrugged as he kept walking, past Jean and to the case of ice cream flavors. Jean followed, even more confused now than he'd initially been. "Don't tell me you came here for _ice cream_? If there's none left in the freezer then, Christ, you don't need anymore!" He joked, secretly wanting to spare his wrists any unnecessary work-out.

"Oh, y'know," Marco gestured vaguely with his hand, a wide smile on his face as he glanced at the various flavors. "There're no mix-ins with what you bring home... and I'm not a very vanilla person." He glanced up at Jean for the last part, his smile twitching. He thought something was funny, but Jean couldn't guess what.

"And I wanted to see you!" He added quickly, straightening his posture to meet Jean at eye level. "You're always working, so...."

" _Marco_ ," Jean scoffed lightly, resisting the desire to roll his eyes, "It's a part time job? We see each other all the time!" His face was a little pink, flattered that Marco had missed him enough to stop by.

"No I mean," Marco stepped closer, leaning forward and lowering his voice, "We never _do_ anything anymore." He sighed, maintaining eye contact. 

Despite the innocent voice and wording, Jean distinctly remembered the other night when Marco's incredibly riveting few cents extra of a raise was _not_ celebrated with sex; Despite Jean's insistence. The idea got shot down, what with Marco having to work in the morning. Their work schedules never really lined up, but they still saw each other every day!

Jean stepped on one of his feet with the other and chewed on the insides of his cheeks, effectively ceasing the intense amount of blushing he'd been doing. "S-stop." He demanded meekly, looking back at his co-workers over by the registers. They were busy conversing about something, but, he still didn't want them hearing about his sex life! Or, whatever was left of it.

"I'll be home later-- I gave you my schedule for this month!" Jean tried to recover, clearing his throat and hoping Marco took the hint and went home. This wasn't the kind of thing you were supposed to talk about to customers! 

Marco sucked in his lips, a quizzical look on his face as he stared back at Jean shamelessly. After a rather uncomfortable staring contest, in which Jean had already lost multiple times while checking things like the clock on the wall and the gum on the floor, Marco inhaled and leaned back again. 

"But I wanted to see you _now_." He countered plainly, as if that much hadn't been obvious to Jean beforehand. 

Jean blinked at him, but before he could say anything, Marco continued, "When do you get off?" The question managed to send a chill up Jean's spine despite the fact that he'd become rather numb to how cold it was in here. Though as much as he'd love to chastise Marco for the relentless innuendos, he'd said it innocently enough and it _was_ a legitimate question to ask.

"In a few hours." Jean sighed, groaning inwardly at the realization that he was stuck with this job until the season ended. He was tired of eating ice cream all the time, gently explaining to people that they had no "healthy" variety, and dealing with picky children whose parents asked them to completely redo what he'd already put in a cup last-second. 

"Ohh...." Marco sounded genuinely upset, frowning as the joyful expression on his face wavered. Whether his comments had been serious or not, he'd clearly thought Jean would be free sooner rather than later. Jean would leave early, but, _money_. This was an easy job, despite the revelation it brought that proved his wrists were absolutely weak.

"...Did you seriously want ice cream?" Jean asked cautiously, eyebrow raised. He'd realized after a few moments that Marco was staring up and behind Jean, at the enlarged menu. 

Marco blinked, gaze shifting back to the various containers of ice cream that were separating them with the help of some glass. "Uh-huh," He nodded, smile back on his face. "I'm deciding." 

Jean was patient with all his customers, but Marco's previous comments had Jean a bit rattled. If Marco really only came here to be flirtatious, there was no reason for him to still be here. 

Looking him in the eyes, Marco let out what Jean suspected to be an exaggerated, forced sigh, "I dunno, I think I want 'The Pie Who Loved Me', with extra cookies?" 

Just before he turned to grab the scoops for the ice cream, Jean realized what Marco was getting at. "Oh, stop it!" He scoffed, embarrassed. 

Marco raised his eyebrows, "What? I can't have that? Okay how about, 'Strawberry Banana _Rendezvous_?" He almost snorted with laughter on that one, the innocent facade on his face cracking as his smile widened just a bit too much. 

"No--"

"Really Jean?" Marco interrupted, "'Cookie Doughn't You Want Some'?" He kept a straight face this time, which only created a lump in Jean's throat. "It'd be..." Marco began to whisper. 

Jean strained, knowing that menu damn well enough to know what Marco was going to say next, "Don't you d--"

"' _Berry Berry **Berry** Good_." Marco finished, miraculously resisting the need to foam at the mouth with laughter at the ridiculousness of his horrible attempts to get Jean to leave early. 

"Marco!" Jean almost shouted, his face reddening from what he would tell himself was frustration, "Stop--" With further shame, he noticed he was attracting the attention of his co-workers with his volume. " _Stop_ reading my goddamn menu!" He hissed finally, crossing his arms. "B-be serious or, y'know...." Now he was doing vague hand gestures, looking down at his shoes in the hopes that maybe it wouldn't give Marco any satisfaction.

"Okay, okay," Marco said quietly, "What about the hot stone?" He whispered, so quietly that Jean could barely hear him above the hum of the fans and coolers, "I'd _kill_ for a churro right now." 

Jean closed his eyes tightly, pressing his heel into his other foot harder than before. After a moment of composing himself, he looked back up, trying his best to glare daggers at the sweet, soft, faux innocent face staring back at him. "Marco, just, tell me what you want."

Marco put distance between them again, a knowing look in his eyes as he so calmly continued, "You know what I want." To anyone else, it sounded normal, _looked_ normal. But Jean had been dating Marco long enough to know he was dealing with a horny jackass who was playing cute to get what he wanted. 

Still, it made Jean anxious even with the overly humorous approach Marco was taking to all of this. Some might think it wasn't in Marco, but, if no one knew what he really meant, if it was just between the two of them, it was like they were alone. And when they were alone, well, Marco wasn't kidding earlier; He wasn't very into "vanilla".

" _Just_ ," Jean brought his hand up to hide, feigning it as annoyance. "Pick something. And then go. I'll be home in a few hours I _swear_." He'd never hear the end of it if he went back on his word. 

Additional sassy remarks, however, weren't in Marco's nature. He returned to looking at the different flavors of ice cream again, but at some point started to take his coat off. "It's so much colder out there than it is in here." He commented offhandedly, eventually revealing his dumbass choice to wear a short sleeved t-shirt. 

Jean wanted to reach over and strangle him, because it definitely wasn't that cold outside, and whatever weird strip-tease thing he was going with? It wouldn't work! This wasn't the 1800's! Jean didn't get all, hot and bothered over a little bit of extra skin showing!

He stared at Marco, as straight faced as he could, trying to put his professional face on again. 

"I want," Marco rested his arms on the top of the glass, which was well at shoulder-level, but refrained from leaning in. Jean nibbled on his lip without realizing it, reveling in the sight more than he'd ever admit. It _was_ colder, and they were always wearing jackets, sweaters, anything with long sleeves. The only time they saw each other's arms these days was... well never, which is probably why Marco decided to bother him today.

Jean privately swore that if Marco started asking to taste test this crap, he wouldn't touch Marco for a month. Yeah, a whole entire month! Not even dick pics. Nope. He'd shut Marco out from that entirely, starve him out. Make him _so_ thirsty he didn't even know what it was he wanted anymore. 

"Cheesecake mixed with coffee." Marco answered simply, much to Jean's surprise and, almost disappointment. He didn't love arguing but, he did like turning Marco's awful, punny advances down. 

"O-oh!" Jean gasped, a little startled that he wouldn't get to respond with anything sassy as he'd been planning. "Okay," He looked to the side at the different toppings, "D'you want anything mixed into that?" 

He was surprised when he looked back to see the innocent smile on Marco's face looked far more genuine now. Like he was just a guy visiting his boyfriend at work _just_ to say hi. It was almost creepy how fast Marco could just change like that, especially when others knew the truth behind his secret tones and carefully constructed expressions. 

"I don't know," Marco tilted to the side, "There's so many options. Like, whipped cream, bananas--"

" _Oh my god_." Jean hissed quietly, trying to give Marco every sign to stop before they both died. 

" _Butterfingers_."

"Marco--"

"Blueberries!" Marco said it quietly, but urgently, verging on a whine. And it drove Jean up a damn wall. But there was a smile on Marco's face that said it all; This was hilarious, whether he was serious or not. Unfortunately, Jean knew that, while his methods were infuriating, he may or may not have wanted to take the rest of the day off _just_ so he could show Marco at home just how damn rude it is to try pulling this shit at the place he works at.

Fuming for more reasons than the obvious, Jean slid his foot back onto the ground, giving the other some much needed relief. He could have said a million things, but the way he stared? Marco got the message. 

"...Kit-Kats." Marco sighed, thought there was no defeat in his voice. 

Jean finally bent down to gather the ice cream, and froze as he saw Marco's lower body on the other side of the glass. With the way he'd stretched to lay his arms out on the top of the glass, it made his shirt lift a little bit, revealing his skin and some hair. Just a little bit. Not a crazy amount, it wasn't like he could see his navel. That'd kill him, if Marco's little comments hadn't already. 

"U-uuhhh," Jean blinked, lifting his head up some to look at Marco, "Wh-what size did you want?"

Face as straight as he was definitely gay, Marco looked Jean dead in the eye, "'Gotta Have It'." 

Jean inhaled deeply with a blush, quickly working to get the ice cream chunks up and out of their containers. He could feel Marco's eyes on him, and as much as this was all making him sweat, Jean wouldn't have it any other way. 

It was only worse as he started to mix the ice cream together with the candy. "Don't strain your wrist!" Marco cooed sweetly, knowing damn well how tight he had him in his grasp. "You'll need them- At least one."

Jean stopped, staring at the cold stone that the ice cream mixture was sticking to the longer he left it there. "I..." He cleared his throat, blinking, and then looked up to meet Marco's gaze. "I've got a break soon? B-but it's, it's only a 20 minute break so...."

Marco's face softened, "You don't even need half of that." 

Nearly choking, Jean quickly moved further down the work-station to where the registers were, grabbing a spoon and napkins. He'd complain about that little comment later. 

He handed the ice cream cup over to Marco, napkins, spoon and all, "It's on me." Yeah, it always was. Employee discount.

"Can I get some extra napkins?" Marco asked, taking the cup without so much as brushing his skin against Jean's. "Y-yeah, sure," Jean mumbled, quickly handing them over in frustration.

Jean was also always the one giving the blowjob.

**Author's Note:**

> By now you all must know I love 2 things: Modern AUs, and Marco being a thirsty fuck. PLEASE, let me know how you liked it, and thank you for reading! Talk to me on my tumblr, crackerjacknotanon.


End file.
